


if you die, i'm gonna kill you.

by rileyhart



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: ANGST!!!, Canon Divergent, F/M, and not by amy in the foot, basically jake gets shot, set in florida, what if amy hadn't made it to jimmy and jake in time???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 21:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileyhart/pseuds/rileyhart
Summary: a canon divergent fic where jake is shot by figgis in florida and amy and the squad deal with the fall out.





	if you die, i'm gonna kill you.

**Author's Note:**

> based off a prompt from tumblr, i hope you guys like this, it's been a long time since ive written any peraltiago stuff.

Amy hears the gunshots as she’s running for him, gun in hand, and it’s as if her blood both boils and freezes as she desperately pushes down the unburdened thoughts of what the gunshots could mean.

She stops at the corner of the building, her gun poised, and peeks round the corner, and her breath gets caught in her throat.

 _Someone_. Someone on the ground.

 _Jake._  Jake lying on the ground. No one else to be seen.

She rushes over to him, falling to her knees. He’s been shot just below his collar bone; the bullet has gone all the way through and blood is pooling out fast, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Jake,” she sobs, hand over mouth. She quickly takes off her own vest and shirt, and presses her shirt to the bullet wound, to stem the bleeding. She carefully lifts his head up, and wraps the shirt around so it presses against the exit wound too. She lets him down gently, and presses against the wound with her hand.

Her chest heaving as she tries to suppress her sobs, she fumbles with her phone, dialling 911. Not far off she hears a crash and a screech of tyres followed by some shouting.

“911 what’s your emergency?” Comes the operator’s voice.

“Uh, a police officer’s been shot, just below his collar bone. It’s gone all the way through so he’s bleeding out fast.” Amy says so quickly that her words tumble over one another. 

“When did this happen?”

“Less than two minutes ago.” She can feel her heart beating in her chest so fast it feels as if it’ll explode.

“And where are you?”

“Coral Palms, The Fun Zone.” Jake’s blood has soaked her shirt, and she can feel his warm blood on her hands. She squeezes her eyes shut and pretends this isn’t happening. She wills it to stop happening.

“We’re sending an ambulance and dispatch out right now. Do you know if the person who shot him has been disarmed?”

“No, I, I don’t know,” Amy stammers, “can you come quick he’s gonna bleed out.” She can’t keep the panic out of her voice.

“We’ll be with you within three minutes, ma’am, okay? Just keep pressure on the wounds.”

“I am, I am,” Amy tells her, her voice strained.

There’s a pause. “I’m going to hang up now ma’am, is that okay?”

“Uhh, I guess,” she says unsurely. “I mean there’s nothing else you can do.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, just stay calm and keep that pressure on until help arrives.”

“Thanks,” Amy murmurs and the woman hangs up, the dial tone beeping rudely.

“C’mon, Jake, just hold on,” she whispers, pressing both hands to the wound, “just two more minutes.”

“Amy?!” It’s Rosa running towards her. “What happened?” She asks, crouching down next to Amy.

“I don’t, I don’t know, I just… he was just like this.”

“Have you called-”

“Yeah, they’re on their way.”

Suddenly Gina comes running from the parking lot. “We got him! We got Figgis!” She’s shouting, and before Amy knows what she’s doing, before she can process the scream Gina lets out at the sight of Jake, she’s telling Rosa to put pressure on Jake’s wound and she’s running, gun in hand, the wind cool against her bare arms. 

Holt has Figgis handcuffed against a wrecked car, sirens echo in the distance, blue and red lights coupling them.

“Figgis,” Amy spits, her blood hot and every inch of her on fire. Holt jumps out of the way and she shoves Figgis against the car, pressing her gun to his neck. Holt protests, but it’s as of he’s far away, and she shake’s off his attempts to pull her away.

Figgis smiles, a wry laugh escaping his lips. “How’s your boy?” He teases.

She pushes the barrel of the gun further into him. “If he dies,” she whispers, her face inches from Figgis, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he snarls.

She turns the safety off, digging extra hard into his neck. “Don’t you fucking test me.”

Next thing she knows arms are grabbing her and voices are yelling. They pull her away from him but not before she has the chance to kick Figgis in the balls.

It takes her a moment to realise she’s surrounded by cop cars and ambulances, and people rushing in all directions. Rosa is leading her somewhere and saying words that Amy’s not processing.

“This is Jake’s ambulance,” Rosa says as they reach one of the far ambulances, “we’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?”

She leaves Amy standing cluelessly in front of the ambulance. “Are you Jake Peralta’s wife?” The paramedic asks her.

“I, uh, I’m his… Yeah, I am,” Amy stutters, grabbing the arm offered out to help pull her up into the back of the ambulance.

The doors are pulled shut and they drive off quickly. Jake is lying on the stretcher, connected up to a heart monitor beeping too slow for comfort. The paramedic in the back is holding pressure to the front of the wound and constantly yelling different pieces if medical jargen that Amy doesn’t understand to the driver.

She looks at Jake and feels it all rushing up inside her. The six months of longing, loving, missing, the sudden possibility that Jake, her Jake, was going to die here and now. She reaches out for his hand and squeezes it, letting herself cry.

“If you die,” she tells him, “I’m gonna kill you.”

* * *

 At the hospital they rush him to surgery, telling a shocked Amy what they’ll be doing who takes in none of it. She’s left alone in the waiting room, feeling cold in only her bloodied singlet. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself, letting out a howl of pain.

The rest of the Nine-Nine arrive not long after, all of them simultaneously embracing Amy and bombarding her with questions she has no ability to answer.

“What condition did they say he was in?” Asks Charles, who looks as of he’s been crying more than Amy.

“Umm, critical, he lost a lot of blood,” Amy replies, on the brink of bursting into tears again.

“Did they say he’d be okay?” Terry asks her.

“I don’t, uhh, I don’t, I dunno know,” her voice breaks and she has to bite her bottom lip and shut her eyes to stop herself from crying.

She feels a hand on her back, guiding her away from the others. She opens her eyes to see Rosa, and once again she lets her lead her away, because anything is easier than thinking right now.

Rosa takes her to a gift shop where she purchases a large t-shirt that says ‘GET BEARY WELL’ with a picture of a teddy bear with a crutch and a bandage across its face. Then they head to a (thankfully empty) bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Rosa says, pulling the singlet over Amy’s head and chucking it in the bin. Amy spots herself in the mirror, and it takes her a moment to process that her reflection is indeed her. She has blood everywhere. Jake’s blood. There’s a bit on her face and in her hair, some on her stomach where it had gone through her singlet, a little on her pants; her hands and forearms are covered in it - some of it isn’t even dry, just clinging on in sticky clumps.

Rosa washes her quickly and practically, using warm water and paper towel. She wipes down Amy’s face first, then her stomach, and lastly her red arms and hands. 

Amy just stands there motionless, letting Rosa work around her, surprised at her gentleness, wondering what sounds Jake’s heart monitor might be making right now.

Rosa finally pulls the beary t-shirt over Amy’s head. “You okay?” She asks her, and Amy has never heard so much kindness and vulnerability in Rosa’s voice.

Amy looks down at her feet. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Rosa,” she looks up and meets Rosa’s dark eyes, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if he dies.” 

“He’s not going to die,” Rosa tries to keep her voice steady and firm, but it wavers at the end, and she wills herself to remain strong for Amy, who is crumbling in front of her.

“You don’t know that,” Amy’s face crumples, and tears run down her freshly cleaned face. “I’ve never seen so much blood,” she whispers; she thinks of her shirt, of the complete dark red his blood had turned it. “I didn’t even kiss him tonight, or tell him I love him. It’s been six months and I haven’t.”

For the first time in her life Amy finds herself being hugged by Rosa, and she feels herself completely breakdown in that moment, ragged sobs echoing the bathroom as she cries into Rosa’s dark hair.

Amy’s not sure how long Rosa holds her like that while she cries. “We better go back out there before we miss any news,” Rosa finally says, letting go of Amy.

Amy nods, and they had back out.

* * *

 It’s been over two hours of waiting when they finally hear Jake’s name being called.

They all rush over to the doctor. “Are you Jake Peralta’s wife?” The doctor asks her.

“I’m his partner, yeah,” Amy replies, “is he okay?”

“Yes,” the doctor confirms, and a sigh of relief echoes throughout the entire squad - with both Charles and Amy letting out more of a sob of relief.

“The operation was success,” the doctor continues, “he lost a lot of blood, and we had to do a massive transfusion as well as stop some internal bleeding in the chest, but we are confident he will make a full recovery, though it may be a while before he has full use of his left shoulder.”

“Can we go see him?!” Charles asks desperately.

“He is in the ICU, and he’s still asleep, so we only allow immediate family to go in.” The doctor nods at Amy.  

“I’ll let you guys know when he’s awake,” she says, turning to the squad, “thank you… for everything.”

“We’ll be here,” Holt tells her, nodding reassuringly.

The doctor leads her to Jake’s room. 

He’s alone and asleep, an oxygen mask on his face and a heart monitor beeping comfortingly next to his IV.

Amy walks over to him, delicately tracing his face with her fingers; with trembling lips she presses a kiss to his forehead. “I love you,” she murmurs, tears dangling from her eyelashes. She closes her eyes and presses her forehead to his, breathing in time with his heart monitor. 

She moves the chair in the corner right next to his bed, and curls up in it, clutching his hand so tight and entwining their fingers.

She watches his chest rise and fall and listens to the sound of the heart monitor. She’s so tired, but everything that’s happened in the past twenty four hours rushes through her mind, and she’s not sure she’d be able to fall asleep even if she tried.

She almost proves that statement wrong twenty minutes later, as her eyelids begin to feel heavy, and they flutter shut, right at the moment that she feels Jake squeeze her hand weakly.

Her eyes snap open. “Jake?!” She exclaims, sitting up excitedly.

His eyes flutter open. “Ames?” Jake slurs, his voiced muffled even more by the oxygen mask.

Her face breaks into a smile, tears back in her eyes. “Oh, I missed you so much, Jake. I’m so glad you’re okay. I let the others know you’re awake.” She quickly pulls out her phone and texts Rosa.

“Figgis?” He mumbles.

“We got him. Well, Holt and Gina did.” Amy tells him, her voice racing. “It’s all over Jake, you can come home.”

He shuts his eyes again, and squeezes Amy’s hand reassuringly. “Home.” Jake murmurs, smiling weakly underneath his oxygen mask; happiness blossoming inside his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! comments would be much appreciated :))


End file.
